Smile
by Ms. Redd
Summary: He'd do anything to make her smile.
1. Prologue

_**A/N: **__Hi all! Just a few warnings, if you will, before you start reading. First, if you are reading this because you follow me (well, first, THANK YOU! You're awesome.), I will start by offering a slight apology then beg you to stick with me. I know that most of my followers follow me for one reason only, and while it might not seem like it at first, I promise it will be worth it in the end. Secondly, I adore Puckleberry. I also love Finchel for the most part. And I absolutely love all three of the three individual characters involved in each of those pairings. I welcome (and beg for, really) reviews, including constructive criticism, but please know that the 'Review' page for this story is not the place for hate for any of the pairings or characters I just mentioned. Now, if you're still with me, thanks, and enjoy, hopefully._

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**Prologue  
Always had an eye for things that glittered**

Rachel Berry was a handful. She was loud. She was overly ambitious. She had a tendency to say _whatever_ was on her mind, regardless of how anyone else felt about it. In short, she was super high maintenance (admittedly so). And she was spoiled. _Boy_ was she spoiled. But in spite of all that, or because of it, really, Finn Hudson was crazy, head-over-ass, stupid in love with her. Because while she was no doubt one of the _most_ high maintenance girls he'd ever met, and definitely spoiled (seriously – he can't stress that enough, she's an only child with two dads, _daddies' only little girl_, and she's super talented on top of that; there's almost nothing she's ever wanted that she didn't get), she wasn't anything like all those other high maintenance and spoiled girls.

All those other spoiled, high maintenance girls, they weren't _just_ spoiled and high maintenance. They were bitches. Really – rude, snotty, straight-up mean bitches. But Rachel wasn't like that. At all. Yeah, she was, at the risk of being like, redundant, or whatever, super high maintenance. But that was only because she'd had dreams, big dreams, her entire life and wouldn't let anything get in her way. And yeah, she got pretty much everything she wanted. But nothing was ever just handed to her, and she didn't expect it to be. She worked her ass off for everything she got – every part, every solo, _everything_. Including Finn.

And that was the kicker, really. There had been a connection from the beginning, from the first time he heard her sing, sure. That was undeniable. And like he'd told Quinn, stupidly thinking that it might make her understand their break-up, he felt tethered to Rachel. But that tether didn't just, ya know, _appear_. They made it. _She_ made it. Because again, she worked for him – for them. And then once she had him – well, this is where it became perfectly clear how truly different she was from all those other high maintenance and spoiled girls. All those other girls, the Quinns and Santanas of the world, made sure that anyone they were with knew how lucky he was to be with her. They never stopped reminding any guy who worked and scrapped and begged and pleaded to get a date with one of the members of local royalty just how special they were, and just how _honored _he should feel to get said date. That's what high maintenance was. That's what spoiled was. Right? Not always. Because Rachel – she was the exact opposite of that. Rachel believed that she deserved everything, that she had a right to it almost, except Finn. From the second she decided that she wanted him (that she wanted to _be_ with him), all she did was work to convince him of how special _he_ was – just the opposite of the others, who only tried to convince guys of how special _they _were. She never stopped telling him how great he was, how kind and how selfless and how talented he was. And on top of that, she never stopped telling him how lucky _she _was to be with _him_. And that was exactly why Finn Hudson loved Rachel Berry.

That was also why Finn usually wasn't bothered by her sometimes selfish tendencies in other areas (and why he put up with them even when he was). So when Rachel kind of went crazy during Christmas of their senior year (he knew she wasn't _really _like Kim Kardashian, but damn if she didn't freak him out for a little bit), Finn just reminded himself that in all other aspects of their relationship, she was close to perfect. Then he sold his letterman jacket (_who wears those things after high school anyway, right?_) to buy her the earrings that she really wanted. Honestly, it wasn't that he didn't want to get them for her in the first place, and he didn't _really _mind that she gave him a list of what she wanted. It just scared him, because it made him wonder, just for half a second, if she was more like those other girls than he had thought, and if she was about to realize that she wasn't actually the lucky one in the relationship. But then, just before he gave her the earrings, he gave her that 'Name A Star' certificate that had cost him like, 30 bucks. And the look on her face when he explained to her that he decided naming the star after himself instead of her seemed like a better idea so that he could always look over her even when they weren't together made his chest feel all tight. In case he wasn't already convinced that she was perfect (_he was_), she said that getting the star and the jewelry and the wonderful boy (_he was that boy!_) was more than one girl deserved. So they both took back their gifts (not the star, that one was a keeper) and gave the money to charity and Finn decided, yet again, that it was the best Christmas ever. But more importantly, she was the best girl ever.


	2. Chapter 1

**Can't forget the way you looked at me**

"Ugh!" Rachel huffed and lowered herself back onto her heels, dropping her arms to rest her hands on her hips. "Finn," she turned on her heel and leaned out of the closet to find her boyfriend lying sideways across her bed and staring up at her ceiling, "sweetie, can you come help me?"

"'Course babe, whattaya need?" Finn jumped off the bed and bit the inside of his cheek to hold back his grin. He _may_ have been watching Rachel the whole time she was in her closet, stretching and reaching every way possible to reach something on the top shelf. He had no idea what she was reaching for (his eyes never quite made it that high), but she was freakin' adorable while she was doing it. He had jerked his head back onto the bed when he saw her get frustrated and give up; he didn't want her to catch him and think he was like, mocking her or enjoying her troubles or something totally _Rachel _like that.

"Can you _please_ get that shoebox up there? I can't seem to reach." She looked up at him through her lashes, an incredibly fake (but still effective) pout gracing her mouth.

Finn laughed, dropping one arm around her shoulders and reaching over her with the other to pluck the box easily off the shelf. He grinned and held the box over her head as she whimpered, swatting at his chest with one hand and reaching desperately for the box with the other. When she finally gave up, after one last whine for good measure, he dropped his lips to her forehead then smirked and lowered the box into her waiting hands.

"So," he started once he was back on the bed and she was carefully rearranging items in her trunk to make room for the box, "how come you like, gotta have these shoes that are shoved up in the closet so high you can't even reach 'em? I mean, doesn't that mean you probably haven't worn them in, ya know, _a while_? What makes ya think you're gonna wear 'em in New York?" He smiled softly as he watched her work, bent over the trunk and humming softly. "What kinda shoes are those, anyway?" His face scrunched in confusion as he thought back to pulling the shoebox from the shelf. "They were really heavy."

Rachel giggled before turning to face him and sitting on the carpet with the box in her lap. "Not shoes." She smiled up at him when he cocked his head and studied her, then lifted her hand and waved him over to join her on the floor. She settled the box between her crossed legs and lifted off the lid once Finn was seated next to her, his hands planted behind him to support his weight and his shoulder brushing hers.

"Holy shit Rach," she scowled and bumped his shoulder with her own, "that's a lotta pictures!"

"Yeah," she dropped her head and blushed. "Memories are important, you know? Especially once I started making friends and having, you know, real relationships."

Finn nodded and lifted the hand closest to her to run it over her back.

"And New York and Broadway are my future, but I kind of feel like _this_," she ran her fingertips over the neatly arranged pictures in the box, "was my beginning. Like, even more than all the lessons and competitions my dads put me in when I was little, glee club was where it really started for me. I'm just trying to hold onto a little piece of that."

He leaned over and placed a lingering kiss on her temple. "Can I?" He reached over her leg and let his hand hover over the box.

"Yeah, of course. Most of them are your memories too," she laughed.

The first photo Finn pulled from the box was one of all the glee girls standing in a line in the middle of the choir room. Rachel was in the back of the line and she was bent slightly forward with her hands on Sugar's hips, her head cocked to the side to smirk at her (all male) audience. He didn't even care that he _knew_ he was sporting a shit-eating grin that had a 50/50 chance of getting him slapped. Hard.

"Finn Hudson!"

Yeah, there it was. Two ways to handle this – he could be all apologetic and like, sheepish or whatever, or he could just embrace it and hope it didn't get his ass kicked. "That was hot, babe." Option number two it was.

"Finn," Rachel groaned and rolled her eyes. "That was absolutely not the point of what we were doing. That performance was all about empowerment and embracing who you are and being proud of everything about yourself, even when others try to bring you down. That was a turning point in Santana's life, and I feel that it was an honor for us to be a part of it."

"That kinda makes it hotter." He only shrugged when she whipped her head to the side to stare at him incredulously. "I mean, Santana was basically horrible to you for like, ever, but you still did all that for her. Just kinda like, proved even more how amazing you are."

Maybe option two wasn't so bad after all, because that earned him a solid kiss on the lips and Rachel's hand sliding through his hair.

"How'd ya get the picture though, like, I don't remember people havin' cameras in glee."

"You weren't exactly aware of your surroundings during that performance, if I remember correctly."

Oh. Yeah.

"But you are right, there weren't any cameras. I mean, not that I noticed. Blaine took it on his phone."

"Oh, cool." (_Note to self: get Kurt to see if Blaine has any more.)_ He slid the picture back into the box and pulled out a small stack. He shuffled through the photos, looking at each one for just a couple seconds. Some were of Rachel with various gleeks, some didn't have Rachel in them at all, and there was even one of Rachel and Ms. Corcoran. Rachel's smile looked really genuine in that one, even if she did seem a little sad, somehow. He decided it was probably from shortly before the older woman had left town for good after Christmas. He laughed out loud when he got to a picture from the previous summer. The whole club, minus Quinn, was at Brittany's hanging out and goofing off in her pool. In the picture, Puck is gripping Rachel's ankles and Mike has his hands hooked under her arms and Rachel is just kind of floating there with this look of sheer terror, mixed with anger and, somehow, amusement, on her face. There is no picture for the next part, but Finn knows, based on his own memories of the day, that mere seconds later, Rachel was crashing into the pool with a splash so big he still didn't quite understand how it could have been made by her tiny body.

Finn continued flipping through the photos, pulling out stack after stack until he had gone through over half the box. In the beginning, nearly all the pictures made him smile for one reason or another, some of them even causing him to break out into laughter as Rachel just watched him in amusement. But after about the third stack, it dawned on him that he hadn't seen so much as one picture of himself. Okay, he was pretty sure he had been in some of the group shots of the whole club, like, on stage after a performance or something, but he was always in the back and Rachel was always in the front (6'3" and 5'2", remember?) and there just weren't any actual pictures of _him_ or of _them_. Deciding that he wasn't in the mood to keep walking down a memory lane that he didn't actually have any part in, he dropped the box back between Rachel's legs and pushed himself off the floor to go drop back onto the bed.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Rachel stood up and stepped around the box of photos to go sit on her knees on the bed next to Finn. She carded her fingers through his hair and stared down at him, concerned.

"Nothin'," he exhaled slowly. "I just … I dunno, I'm not sure what kinda pictures I expected you to have, exactly, but …"

She smiled softly at him then leaned down to kiss him on the mouth. She smirked against his lips when she felt his whole body relax below her, then darted her tongue out to run it along his bottom lip. Finn's hands lifted from where they had been laced behind his head to wrap around her waist and pull her closer when he slipped his own tongue into her mouth. Rachel kissed him for a full minute, and he still got that tightening feeling in his stomach every time his tongue slid over hers.

"What was that for?" Finn's eyes were glazed over and his voice was a little hoarse.

"For caring so much when you thought I didn't have any pictures of you." She leaned over to peck him once more on the lips then sat back up on her knees and slapped his chest.

"Ow!" He rubbed the tender spot where she had hit him. "And what was _that _for?"

"For thinking I didn't have any pictures of you!" Rachel pushed herself off the bed and practically stomped back over to her trunk. Finn was too distracted by the way she bent over the trunk to really pay any attention to what she was doing in it, so he was a little confused when she stood up, gripping yet another shoebox, with a loud, "Ah ha!" She dropped the box onto Finn's stomach and sat on the edge of the bed watching him expectantly._****_

Finn was still a little dazed by the time the new shoebox thudded onto his stomach, but the way Rachel just stared at him told him he should probably open it. Inside the box, he found not only a stack of pictures of just him or them (and some of them were so random and candid that he briefly had a _Swimfan_ flashback, but he pushed that down and chalked them up to Kurt and the other guys, and maybe even his mom, who loved Rachel just about as much as she loved him), but also movie stubs and a dried flower that he was pretty sure came from the bouquet he gave her in New York and two airplane cups that were tinted slightly pink. He couldn't help but smile as he ran a finger around the rim of one of the cups.

"I love you, ya know." He was staring at a picture of the two of them at his mom and Burt's wedding. They were in the middle of the aisle – the only members of the wedding party to have come into the sanctuary so far – and he was on one knee just staring up at her while she kind of looked back at him over her shoulder. He brushed his thumb over her face in the picture, smiling at the memory, and a little at the thought of the next time they might be in that same position.

"I do."

Finn didn't think she realized the significance of her words; he was pretty sure she couldn't even see the picture from where she was sitting. Still, hearing her say those words, at that moment, sent a chill down his spine.

When Rachel's phone buzzed to life on her nightstand, Finn reached over to grab it for her and noticed the time for the first time thanks to her alarm clock. "C'mon babe," he started once she had laughed at the text message she just received and slipped the phone into her pocket. "I gotta be at the shop to help Burt in like, an hour, so if you hurry and finish up that trunk, I can load your stuff into the car before I go. We'll load all your stuff in first, that way if we run outta room, it'll be my stuff that gets left behind and not yours." He laughed as he rose from the bed, bringing the 'Finchel' box along with him to place it carefully back into the trunk.

"Of course, that's one reason to put off getting your things packed into the car." Rachel smirked at him and he looked sheepishly back at her, playing dumb. "The other possibility is that you haven't packed yet." She crossed her arms over her chest and stood to face him. It was kind of funny how she managed to intimidate him.

"I'm mostly done," he pouted, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I would be all the way done if Burt didn't keep making me come to the shop. I mean, I'm pretty sure Sam knows what he's doing by now."

"I'm sure Sam is a very competent worker. But I have a feeling there's a little more to it than that."

"What do you mean?"

"You know what, daddy can take care of this stuff later," she motioned to the luggage strewn around her room. "Come here." Rachel reached a hand out to Finn and pulled him along with her to sit on the floor by the bed when he wrapped his hand around her much smaller one. "You don't have to do this, you know." He squinted and tilted his head to study her, clearly not understanding what she was talking about. "New York, you don't have to go. I mean, I've been working for this my entire life. I've made it a point to have nothing tying me to Lima when this day finally arrived. But, you … you have a life here Finn. You have people who care about you and want, maybe even _need_ you here. I know you have been incredibly valuable to Burt at the shop, and I'm sure that's a big part of his desire to have you around so much lately, but I think an even bigger part of that is due to the fact that you are family to him, and he cares about you. And of course, my dads care about me and I know they will miss me, but my family has been preparing for this day basically since my birth. Your family on the other hand, well, they haven't had as much time to adjust to the idea, since the decision was made relatively recently. You haven't been dreaming of New York since you could walk. And I know you've enrolled in classes at CUNY, and I can't tell you how proud I am of you for that, but _if _you don't want to go, I'm sure you can still get into OSU Lima for the fall, or definitely the spring, and you can stay here and work for Burt and continue to build on the life you've already started to create for yourself. A life that, I'm sure, would be happy and prosperous and rewarding for you." She dropped her eyes and wouldn't make contact with his as she rubbed her damp palms across her shorts. "If that's what you want."

"Rach," Finn couldn't hide the panic in his voice. Honestly, he didn't even try. He closed one hand tightly over her knee and used the other to turn her face toward his. "Do you not …"

"God, Finn, no!" Her eyes grew almost comically wide and she jumped onto her knees, Finn's hands falling away from her as she climbed onto his lap. "Finn," she choked a little and her voice was strained, and she stopped talking to lean forward and kiss both of his cheeks, her hands clinging to the sides of his neck. "Earlier in the year, when you were so excited about the OSU recruiter coming to the game, I was so happy for you, but I couldn't help but think about how if you got that scholarship, there was no chance you would come to New York with me. And then I tried to feel bad about how selfish that was, but I was too hurt by the prospect of our future together being all but crushed to really care about being selfish. But," her voice dropped almost to a whisper and he had to lean closer to hear her, "I _really _don't want to be selfish anymore. You deserve more than that. So, if you want to stay here instead of just following me to New York, I'll understand. These are my dreams, not yours." She dropped her head and studied the lettering on Finn's t-shirt.

"Rachel," he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist and pulled her body flush against his. He wondered when she was ever going to get it. 'Cause seriously, she was like, _everything_ to him. And somehow she still managed to think that like, he deserved more than her or should want something better. How did she not understand that there was nothing better for him? "_You_ are my dream." She looked up at him with her eyes all big and hopeful and he couldn't not kiss her before he went on. "I still don't know exactly what I plan to do with myself, but I do know that whatever it is, I plan on doing it with you. Besides, what better place to explore my options or whatever than New York, right?"

Rachel kept her head down as she braced her hands on Finn's shoulders and pushed herself away from him to resituate herself until she was straddling his thighs. She slid her hands over his shoulders until they hooked loosely behind his neck. When she finally looked back up, Finn's breath left him in a whoosh. Her eyes were wide and wet, glistening really, and she stared back into his own eyes in a way that would have freaked him out a few years ago but right then only made his stomach flip. The best part, though, was her smile. Rachel had so many smiles. There was the show-smile that she had perfected when she was five, there was the friend-smile that had seen much more use over the past year or so than ever before, there was her daddy-smile, and there was her Finn-smile. On any given day, he would say that the Finn-smile was by far his favorite. But her smile on that day, right after he had told her that she was all he wanted and that following her to New York was his dream even if New York itself wasn't, put even the Finn-smile to shame. It was wide and bright and even a little teary, and it was absolutely perfect.


	3. Chapter 2

**I'd do anything that you wanted me to**

So. Moving? It sucks. Big time. Of course, it didn't help that Rachel had more stuff than, like, _God_, but still. Finn's pretty sure it would have sucked no matter what. But in the end, that didn't really matter. He would have done it all over again – helping pack Rachel's things into her car, and her dads', and even Burt's truck, when everything he owned worth taking across the state line fit into about half of her trunk; unpacking those same things into their shoebox apartment; subsequently sneaking half of her boxes (would she really miss those trophies from when she was like, three?) back out to her dads' car without her knowing; going to thrift stores all over their neighborhood to find the cheapest _decent_ furniture possible to fill their new home – if it meant going to New York and moving in with Rachel.

Ok, so their apartment wasn't the nicest thing out there. Sure, it was clean, and the neighborhood was pretty safe, since it was mostly full of college students. Best of all, it was just blocks away from NYADA and a long walk or a short subway ride, depending on the weather and his mood, from the branch of CUNY where Finn had enrolled to take some general ed courses until he figured out exactly what he wanted to do. But, the downside to all this, the one thing that made an apartment like that affordable to two 18-year-olds, was the fact that it was tiny. Seriously, Finn was pretty sure that the sole bedroom was about the same size as Rachel's closet in Lima, the living room and kitchen combined to make a common area only slightly larger than his childhood bedroom (at least there was no cowboy wallpaper, not that the faded 70s-era flowers were much better), and he had to crouch about six inches to wash his hair in the shower. They didn't dare complain though. Not once. Because what they had wanted was to be _together _in New York, and the only way to make that happen was to find an apartment where the rent was lower than the combined room and board at their respective colleges. The Berrys and the Hudson-Hummells had agreed to each give their children the same amount of money that they would have spent if the kids had opted to live on campus, and not a penny more. So, they found the best thing they could, a Cracker Jack box above a coffee shop that, with utilities included, left them about $200 a month to buy groceries.

The one thing they splurged on was a bed. Finn and Rachel both threw in half of the money they received as graduation gifts to buy a brand new bed on their second day in the city. The bed itself was nothing special – a metal frame with a simple, wood-slat headboard and no footboard (6'3", remember?). But the mattress and box spring, well now that _was _special. The young couple decided that of all the things in their apartment, the one thing that they wanted to be _just right_ was the bed, so they spent a whole day lying on mattresses in one furniture store after another until they handed over the cash and went home to wait for the delivery of their brand new, memory-foam mattress. It was of no concern to them that once the queen-size bed was set up in their tiny bedroom, there were about six inches between the bed and the wall on one side (Rachel's side, for obvious reasons) and just enough room for the closet door to open on the other side. It was a _bed_room, right? And their bed was awesome. Who cared if it meant the dresser had to go in the living room? Rachel was really good at that decorating stuff, so she just put the television and some really great pictures of them on top of it and by the time she was done, it looked like it belonged in there.

"Ya know babe," Finn started as they were lying in their bed for the first time, Rachel's back pressed against his chest and his arm wound around her waist, "I'm not complaining, like, _at all_, but we probably didn't actually need the queen-size. I mean, your side's like, empty."

Rachel shifted, pressing even more tightly back against him and bringing her hand to rest on top of his own, "You say that now, but we'll be glad for it later. For one thing, we both know there will come a point when I will do _something _to annoy you and you'll want to put some space between us. This will save you from sleeping on the couch. For another, we live in a New York shoebox apartment. If our air conditioning hasn't gone on the fritz within the first week, I will be shocked. The first time that happens, we won't want to touch each other in here." She giggled. "I especially won't want your tree trunk legs wrapped around me." She poked at his thigh where it rested on her hip, grabbing at his knee when he started to lift his leg off her lower body and pull it away. "Not now. I like it now."

"I just like havin' you here. Like, _here_," he squeezed her briefly, "ya know?"

"I do. And I like it too, but my point is, there will be a time when it just won't be practical. Or comfortable. And when that time comes, we'll be thrilled to have this nice big bed."

"I guess." They were both quiet for nearly a minute before Finn grinned into Rachel's hair then unwound his arm from her waist to push himself up so that he was hovering over her.

"Finn?" She was so cute, her brows all scrunched up and her lips pursed like she had no idea what was going on. She squealed when he slipped his other arm under her waist and gripped her hip, rolling toward the edge of the bed and taking her with him. He stopped when he was flat on his back and she rested on top of him.

"Ya know, I just thought of another great thing about having more room." She smacked his chest when he smirked up at her and wiggled his eyebrows, but then she was the one to run that same hand up and curl it around his neck, leaning down to press her smiling lips against his.

~.~

College wasn't easy. But like, somehow, it wasn't as hard as high school, either. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he didn't have so many distractions, or that he was more motivated – knowing that your mom is actually, like, _paying _for you to be there will do that – or, most likely, the fact that he was living with Rachel. Because college definitely did not mellow her. She was determined, and kinda crazy, and she pushed him just as hard as she pushed herself. She had turned the corner of the kitchen with their little breakfast table into like, a study area, and she wouldn't even let him touch her until he'd done his homework every night. (She did have some pretty awesome techniques for helping him study for tests though, and even though there was no touching then either, he certainly couldn't complain.) He didn't hate that she worked so hard to make sure that both of them did so well. He didn't even hate that he had spent his first Christmas ever away from his mom because Rachel wanted to stay for some totally voluntary workshop thing over the break. (She insisted she wouldn't be mad if he went back without her, and he believed her, but, yeah, so not happening.) He actually decided to make the most of the time and got a part-time job at the coffee shop downstairs, filling in for some guy who _had_ gone home for the holidays. It's not like he made a ton of money or anything, but he made enough to take them out for a nice dinner on New Year's Eve and to get one of the other guys at the coffee shop to get him a bottle of champagne that they toasted with when the ball dropped. He probably should have saved the money, but Rachel's smile when he pulled away from her after their midnight kiss was totally worth it.

He _did _hate that he was a week away from finishing his first full year of college – with all As and Bs, he was sure of it – and he still had no clue what he wanted to _do_. Like, his classes weren't awful, but they were all just general stuff, the same kind of stuff he'd been doing since forever, and there was nothing just reaching out and grabbing him or whatever. And, okay, he could see by then that his whole idea of joining the Army back in high school was ridiculous, but there was still something about that whole idea that was kind of appealing to him – more than anything else at least. Not the _Army_, exactly, but something _like _that, something where he got to help people and make a difference and stuff. Rachel had always told him what a good heart he had, how she loved how he was caring and compassionate and whatever other words she used (he didn't pay attention to the words so much as her voice when she said them – it was that same voice that always made his stomach flutter and his insides feel warm). Maybe he could like, do that for other people too. Like, aren't you supposed to use your strengths or what you're good at to find what you should do with your life? The problem was, none of the courses he had taken so far were really leading him toward anything like that. He supposed he could be a teacher, teachers helped people, but that wasn't really something he could see himself doing for the rest of his life. He totally got why some people would, and he admired Mr. Schue more than anybody outside like, his mom and Burt and Rachel; it just wasn't for him.

"It's okay, sweetie," Rachel had promised him when they sat on the couch taking a break from studying for finals, school supplies and Chinese containers scattered around them. "You still have at least a semester, maybe even a whole year, of general ed courses to take before you really have to decide anything."

"Yeah, but like," he ran his hand through his hair, frustrated, "everybody else knows. You've known your whole life what you wanted to do, and now you're doing it."

"Finn, you can't -,"

"And even the people in my classes, they all have majors or whatever. And I'm the undecided guy. I've _always _been the undecided guy." He let his head drop onto the back of the couch and slouched down into the cushions.

Rachel dropped the notebook she had been flipping through, marking out notes as she transferred them to index cards, and rose to her knees. She crawled across the couch and finally slung one leg over Finn's lap, dropping onto his knees and resting her hands on his shoulders. Her thumbs ran up and down the sides of his neck a few times then her fingers began kneading the flesh of his shoulders and upper back. "You've never been one to rush into things, Finn, you've always taken a little longer to think about your decisions before making them. And that's okay. Because one day, you will decide, and when you do, it will be something absolutely perfect for you, and all the time it took will be worth it."

She was smiling when he opened his eyes, and he couldn't help but smile back.

~.~

"Rach! Baby? I'm home." Finn kicked off his shoes as he fumbled to pull the key out of the lock and close the door behind him. He was late. Like, super late. And he knew Rachel wouldn't be happy about it. It didn't help that he'd forgotten to charge his phone the night before (although, to be completely fair, she was the one who distracted him) and it had died half way through his second class so he couldn't even call and tell her he was going to be late.

"Finn Christopher Hudson," yeah, definitely not good, "you should have been home almost two hours ago." He thought she was probably in the bedroom when he came in, but he could hear her voice getting closer and he hurried to get his shoes into the tiny hall closet before she got to him. "I have been sick. _Terrified_. I," she stopped abruptly when she rounded the little half-wall that separated the kitchen from the living room and actually laid eyes on him. "Finn!" Her hands flew to her mouth and fluttered there for a second before reaching out toward him. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"Yeah baby," he opened his arms in invitation, and she took it immediately, falling into them and resting her head against his chest. "I'm fine. I'm good."

"You smell like smoke." She wrapped her arms around his waist and nuzzled her face into his chest. "Finn, you smell like smoke," she pulled back and looked at him, scanning his body then settling her eyes on his face, "an-and your covered in, in … soot?" She reached up to run one hand through his hair, looking at it as she pulled it back down and rubbed her fingers together, feeling the grime between them. "Finn," she almost whispered, "what _happened_?"

"Baby, let's – can we?" He pointed toward the couch and leaned down to kiss her forehead softly when she nodded. She was pliant in his arms when he turned her, letting him move her as he pleased. He kept her in front of him and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, moving her hair with his chin and pressing a kiss into the crook of her neck before walking them to the couch. Rachel started to sit, but he wrapped his arms around her just a little more tightly and pulled her down with him so that she ended up on his lap. "I love you," he mumbled into the hair at the back of her head as she sat, bewildered.

"I love you too." She lifted one of his hands to her mouth to kiss his palm, a series of soft little pecks, then turned so that she was sitting across his legs and could look at his face, at his eyes. "Now please tell me what happened to make you come home almost two hours late, looking like you just stepped out of a fire."

"Okay. But, before I do, ya gotta promise me you're not gonna like, freak out or whatever, okay? I mean, 'cause I'm home and I'm fine and nothing really happened anyway, but I know how you are, and I just don't want you to be upset. Okay?" Finn was petting her, rubbing his hand over her hair and down her back, as he spoke. It really was nothing, to him, but he knew how Rachel was. She was super-dramatic and she tended to overreact about even little things, and okay, maybe this wasn't _exactly_ the smallest thing ever.

"Okay," her voice was tiny, and he could tell she was kinda scared, and he had to kiss her, just softly, there on the side of her head.

"Okay. So I was coming home from class, and it seemed like a good day to walk. Like, the weather's all perfect, and warm for March, and I was in a good mood, and … yeah. It just seemed like a good day to walk. So anyway, I'm walking, and I get about nine, ten blocks from school, and there's all this like, commotion, or whatever. And ya know that pizza place we went to that one time, the one you liked so much 'cause they were so cool when you told them you were vegan and they like, accommodated all your needs or whatever?" Rachel nodded and he frowned a little before going on. "Well, we're not gonna get to go back there." He ran his hand over her hair again when she tilted her head a little to the side and let his other hand come to rest over her knee. "There was a fire." She gasped and he squeezed her leg a little in his hand. "And I wasn't trying to, ya know, _gawk_ or whatever, 'cause you always tell me that's rude, but there was this huge crowd and I kinda got stuck. So I'm just like, standing there, trying not to get in anybody's way, which you know is kinda hard for me sometimes, and I'm just watching while the firefighters are trying to put out the fire, and some of them are going in the building, and I'm feeling really bad for the people who own the pizza place, you know?" He stopped and waited for her to nod again. He'd learned it was always good to let her 'process' (her word, not his) when he had a lot to say. "But then I see one of the firefighters back by the truck pointing to some of the windows up on like, the third and fourth floor, and I realize people _live_ there, and then I feel really bad, 'cause those are people like us, and they're losing their homes."

Rachel nodded for what seemed like the millionth time since Finn got home and slid her fingers over his neck, letting her thumb brush over his jaw. He let his head lean just a little into her hand. He didn't really think he needed comforting, but at the same time, he never turned down an opportunity to be touched by Rachel.

"So anyway," he tilted his head just a little more so that her fingers moved across his skin as he spoke, "I was just standing there thinking about how much that would suck, ya know, if somebody like, left a cappuccino machine on downstairs or something and we lost our home 'cause of it." She had this look that was almost a smile, and she shifted her hand up just a little so that her fingertips brushed over the outside of his ear and her thumb drew tiny little circles on his cheek. "And then I'm just standin' there, and I'm, ya know, kinda in my own world or whatever, when this firefighter comes running out of the building carrying a little kid." She gasped a little and her eyes got all wide, so he turned his head even more to kiss the inside of her wrist. "She was okay," he let his lips move across the soft skin of her arm as he whispered, "the little girl, she was fine Rach."

The way her breath rushed out of her made him smile, and he sat up straighter, moving his head a little from side to side to stretch out his neck. "But she was like, alone," he frowned, more to himself than anything, "and the firefighter put her down and she was just clinging to him or whatever. And he looked like he felt really bad about it, but he kinda pushed her away and went back in. I didn't know where her parents were, but she was just standing there, all alone." He wasn't surprised to see tears starting to well up in Rachel's eyes. "And then all of a sudden, she's staring at me. I don't know if it was 'cause I was like, a head taller than everybody else, or what, but she's staring right at me and her little chin is shaking and her eyes are all full of tears. I couldn't help it, ya know? I just moved a little so I was at the front, right up next to the barriers the firefighters put up, and I bent down and kinda held my hands out, and like two seconds later she's running up and wrapping her little arms around my neck and like, bawling."

"Oh Finn," then _Rachel _wrapped _her _arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder.

"I know," he whispered against her hair. He wasn't sure what he knew, but he figured it had something to do with 'that poor little girl' and the fact that he could have been hurt and that on top of everything else, when all was said and done, she was going to be pissed at him for putting himself in harm's way. (He wasn't really – in the way of anything, that is – but he knew she wouldn't see it that way.) "I couldn't just leave her, ya know?" She nodded against him. "So I stayed, right there next to the barrier, as close to the fire truck as I could get so no one would think I was like, kidnapping her, and waited. Her parents showed up about the time they got the fire put out – turns out she was with a baby sitter who got brought out after her and sent straight to an ambulance for smoke inhalation – and thanked me and even tried to give me money. I didn't take it, of course, but they were like, really really happy about me keeping an eye on her. The firefighters were really cool too, telling me how cool it was to just kinda step up like that and help out."

"So," Rachel pushed herself back a little and looked him up and down once, "all this," she ran a finger over a particularly dirty spot on his shirt, "it's from …"

He nodded. "Lily. The little girl."

"And you're really really okay?"

"Yeah," he chuckled a little, "I'm really really okay."

"Good. Don't ever," she smacked his shoulder, "_ever_," and again, "scare me like that again. Do you hear me Finn Hudson?"

He laughed a little and kissed her cheek before settling back into the couch. He didn't make any promises, though.

"Uh, Rach?" They'd been just sitting there on the couch, Rachel still draped over his lap, one hand twisted into the side of his t-shirt and the other still hovering around his face, touching him occasionally, for about five minutes. "You know I like, haveta declare a major at the end of this semester, right? I mean, it's been two years. I've taken all the general ed classes I can take. If I don't pick something, well, there's really no point in going back in the fall."

She pressed her palm against his cheek when she leaned up to kiss him. He always liked that. "Oh sweetie, I know you're worried about not knowing yet what you want to do, but -,"

"Yeah, that's the thing. I think maybe I do know." He watched as her eyes got all big and she just kind of stared at him. "I um," he cleared his throat. He may have been building up some courage. He had a feeling she wouldn't be crazy about what he was getting ready to say. "I think I wanna be a firefighter." He forced himself to keep looking at her, even when her lips parted and he could tell she wanted to say something, although no sound came out. "And CUNY has a major for it and everything. Well, I mean, I don't think there's a major called 'firefighter,' but when I was going through the book before, I remember seeing something about emergency services, so I'm sure they like, go together or something. And I'd probably have to change campuses, but that wouldn't be so bad, right?" He really, _really_ wanted her to see that this was a good thing. He wanted her to tell him what he was thinking about doing was right. He just … he just wanted her on his side.

"Finn …"

"Look, Rach, I know it's not exactly traditional. I mean, it's not business, or education, or anything like that. But today … with Lily and the firefighters, I just … I really think this is what I wanna do, Rach."

"You're sure?" Her voice was quiet, soft and even a little shaky. He just nodded. "You promise to be careful?" He nodded again. "I mean it Finn, _promise _me."

"I promise, Rachel."

"You'll be incredible," she brought both of her hands to his cheeks and pressed her forehead against his as she spoke. "You've always been _my _hero, I guess I'll just have to share you with all the other people who will see it now."

Finn didn't know if he'd ever loved her quite so much. He knew she was scared – he could see it in her eyes. And he got it; he understood why she would be. But still, she was supporting him, telling him exactly what he needed to hear. Even if it wasn't the job she wanted him to have, he knew right then that she would support him all the way, and he could only imagine what she would come up with to help him with _those _finals.

"Always gonna be yours, Rach." She gave him a small, timid smile when he brushed his lips across her forehead, then her cheek, then finally her lips.


	4. Chapter 3

**You said time was all you really needed**

Finn was an awesome firefighter. Seriously. And that's saying a lot, coming from him. He was always the guy who had to have someone else – his mom, Rachel, Mr. Schue, Puck – tell him how good he was. But the first time one of his classmates looked at him and said, "Dude, you're really good at this. You're gonna be great on the job," he just smiled appreciatively and thought, _'Yeah, I know.'_ And it was like, a total shock that first time to think it, but he did. And he knew then he'd made the right decision, that he was doing what he was supposed to be doing.

If he did well in his first two years of college, when he was fulfilling his general education requirements, he freakin' aced his upperclassman years, when he got to take nothing but classes related to his Fire and Emergency Services major. Of course there was stuff to memorize – rules and lists of procedures and even chemicals and whatnot that would interact with one another – but really, the classes were all about just learning how to do the job. And that part, following his instincts and being a leader and helping people, was easy. It didn't hurt that Rachel continued to insist on helping him. She was a real trooper when he was taking that one EMT class he had to take. (Of course, there was a lot less laughing – and kissing – with the 'victim' in the actual final, but whatever. Her help really did, well, help.) But at the same time, her helping him didn't seem quite as necessary as it had the first couple years.

It also turned out that while he was right about one thing – a four-year degree isn't actually necessary to be a firefighter – Rachel (and his mom, and Burt, and, well, a lot of people) was kinda more right – it helps. A lot. Because just before the end of his last semester, one of his instructors came and told him that he had set up an interview with the captain of the station closest to his and Rachel's apartment. The captain loved him (that had always kinda happened with him; he wasn't sure why, but he'd stopped questioning it a while ago), and once he graduated he was considered to be like extra qualified or whatever, so he officially started his job a week after graduation without having to go through any additional training or anything. He got to be full-time, too. None of that starting out as a volunteer, or even part-time, business.

Finn loved his job. And not to be like, repetitive or whatever, but he was good at it. That all added up to him not hating being at work. He actually kinda enjoyed it. He just didn't enjoy the actual hours he had to spend there. See, Rachel also graduated with a job lined up for herself. On Broadway, even. She wasn't the lead, but, apparently, that wasn't the point. ("It's Broadway, Finn. Broadway!") And he was so, so proud of her. (Even more so when she was offered the lead in an off-Broadway production – big fish in a little pond, or whatever – and she turned it down because she was already committed to the other production.) The thing was, after that one really awesome week that they both took off right after graduation when they seriously went like, over 60 straight hours without even leaving the bedroom (no really, upside to being with a vegan is that most of her food doesn't really go bad if it's left out, so he brought practically the whole kitchen into the bedroom and didn't even let her go to the bathroom without a fight), they both got crazy busy. And it was weird, 'cause suddenly they had all this money – it was a lot to them, anyway – that they'd never had before, but they didn't have any time to spend it. Rachel had rehearsals or lessons of some sort every day for a couple months, then once the show started she had shows every day except Monday. Finn worked 24 hours on and 24 hours off with very little exception unless there was an emergency or several people were on leave. What that meant, basically, was that every other Monday, Finn and Rachel got to spend the day together. Other than that, it was all little moments here and there and one slipping into bed an hour before the other was getting out of it.

They didn't want to complain. And they didn't, really. Sure Rachel (and yeah, Finn too, though he wasn't quick to admit it) got a little pouty sometimes, talked about missing the way things used to be when they had class schedules that basically coincided and they ate at least breakfast and dinner together every day and went to bed together every night. But it wasn't awful. The Mondays they got together were incredible. And sometimes it would have been a really slow night at the station and Finn would have gotten a decent night's sleep so that when he came home he managed to stay up until Rachel got up and for at least a few hours after, and those days were really nice. Still, it was really weird to miss someone who lived with you. But that was what they signed up for – they had both known that Rachel was Broadway-bound, and no one made him become a firefighter, even after he found out what kind of hours they worked – and he never doubted for a second that they both still loved each other as much as they always had, so it was fine. It would work.

~.~

About a year after they graduated, Finn and Rachel bought their own apartment. They hadn't necessarily planned to do it, at least not that soon, but they'd both been working for a year and had saved up a pretty decent down payment. It wasn't that either of them was really making all that much money, not by traditional standards (he was a rookie firefighter and she had just gotten promoted within her show from barely above an extra to a character with five lines and one solo, they both still had a way to go), but when you're used to living on basically nothing, then you suddenly start making money you don't have time to spend, it's not that hard to save. Buying an apartment seemed to make as much sense as anything else.

Their new place was nothing extravagant. It was in the same neighborhood as their first apartment, still only a few blocks from the station and just a little farther to the theatre where Rachel's show was running. It did have a bedroom that would actually hold their bed _and _both of their clothes. And an actual, floor-to-ceiling, wall to separate the kitchen (almost twice as big as the first) from the living room. And, best of all, a bathroom that both of them could stand in at the same time, complete with a combined bathtub and shower that Finn could actually like, stand upright in. (They could also both fit in the tub, which was really nice that first night.)

The week they moved, Finn had Saturday off. Rachel had spent most of her downtime during the week boxing things up and making sure everything was packed just so. When she went in for her first of two shows on Saturday, three of Finn's buddies from the station were waiting downstairs at the coffee shop. The four men spent the afternoon, evening, and much of the night moving and unpacking all of Finn and Rachel's things. (When it came to the unpacking, Finn made the guys stay in the kitchen and living room while he worked behind the closed bedroom door. There were just some things he didn't need his friends to see.) Finn tried to pay them – had been trying to since he first asked them for their help weeks prior – but they wouldn't accept anything other than the pizza and beer he provided at dinner. He'd forgotten what it felt like to have people who were just like, _there_ for him. Like, he'd had Rachel, and he never doubted that, but sometimes he felt a pang when he thought about Puck or Sam or even Blaine. It was really cool to feel like he had something like that again.

When Rachel came home from her second show that night, Finn was sitting in the middle of the empty living room floor, twirling the keys to the new apartment on his finger. "Ready to go home?"

"Finn, are you … What did you …" Rachel actually spun around twice (_twice!_) there in that area that wasn't quite kitchen and wasn't quite living room before she finally just stopped and stared at him, both hands hanging limp at her sides so that the huge bag she carried every night almost brushed the floor.

"C'mon babe," he grinned cheekily and stood to meet her where she was still staring slack-jawed at him. "I been moving all day. I'm tired. Let's go home."

"I can't believe you did all this," she told him later, running the tip of her index finger over his forearm where it rested on the edge of the tub. "No," she giggled, "actually I can. I still didn't expect it, though." He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her even closer against his chest and leaned down to kiss her shoulder. (He really was tired. And he had to work the next day, so that would suck. But they got into the apartment and she headed straight for the bathroom and said, "Let's take a bath," instead of "I'm going to take a bath," so …)

They both had to work the next day, but then that meant they both had Monday off. They got to spend a whole day together in their new apartment, their first true home, the way Finn saw it. He didn't expect it to be their last, though. Because eventually there would be marriage and babies and something much bigger and more accommodating. He hadn't actually said that to her, but that was okay. They were on the same page. She knew.

~.~

Finn told himself things would get better. Well, not 'things,' exactly, because 'things' were fine, in general. He loved his job, Rachel loved her job, and he and Rachel still loved each other. So much. It was just, even though _he_ knew they loved each other, he sometimes wondered if anyone else would. Like, if she started a new show, with new castmates, and he showed up at the theatre, would they even know he was her boyfriend? Honestly, he was starting to lean toward no. Because even though they never acted like they didn't love each other, they didn't always act like they did, either. (If that even makes any sense. Whatever.) It was just, in the beginning, they always made such a point of going out of their way to make time for each other around their schedules, and to make the very most of whatever time they did have together. But after being in New York and living together for just over six years, out of school for over two, they kinda started taking each other for granted or whatever. Rachel stopped getting up one or two mornings a week when Finn came in just to have breakfast with him then go back to bed. Finn stopped setting an alarm and rushing home from the station every day as soon as his shift was over in favor of staying in the bunk room for a few extra hours if he was in the middle of a good sleep. It wasn't her fault. Or his. It was just … life.

They didn't totally neglect each other. Finn still went to shows occasionally and accompanied Rachel to the more formal events, though she had started attending the more casual cast gatherings alone. And Rachel showed up to the station once every few weeks, usually on a Monday, with lunch for him and baked treats for all the guys, and stayed for a while – hours sometimes, if it was slow – with him. They had some mutual friends too, mostly guys Finn worked with and their girlfriends (even Rachel wasn't too crazy about most of the people she worked with – he didn't know if she really didn't like them, or if she didn't like them just because they were, or could someday be, her competition), who they did things with from time to time. But sometimes Finn thought instead of feeling like a couple that was basically closer to being married than dating, he felt the way he did back in high school when their relationship was young, or even when they were just really good friends between tries (or, on the really down days, like he was her roommate). He loved her and he wouldn't give up the part she played in his life for anything, but he didn't always feel completely comfortable with her and the few castmates who were her friends (inadequate might even be a good word, sometimes), and he often wondered exactly what his place in her life was. That didn't mean he was planning to give that place up any time soon, though.

Sometimes, though, things don't work out the way you wanted them to, or even the way you always thought they would. Sometimes things don't get better.

One of the guys called in to say his kid was sick, and since, somehow, Finn had gotten to sleep almost the whole night in the bunk room, he volunteered to stay at the station for the first half of the shift. He texted Rachel in the morning to let her know what was going on, but he didn't hear back from her, and he wasn't really surprised. It wasn't like they would have done anything together anyway. He would probably have spent most of the day in the bedroom, even though he'd gotten a pretty good night's rest, while Rachel buzzed around the apartment before finally getting ready for work and leaving for the theatre.

When he got home at almost nine, he knew something wasn't right. Mainly, he knew Rachel was still at home. On a Thursday night. First, her shoes and purse were still tucked away neatly by the door. And he could hear the tv on in the living room. He practically had to beg her to keep the hall light on when they weren't at home so he didn't bang his shins on something every time he walked through the door. If the tv was on, there was no way she wasn't there.

"Rach?" He called out to her quietly as he walked into the living room. The volume was turned way down on the tv and he could tell she wasn't really watching. "Hey. What's up?"

"Finn." She seemed almost startled by his appearance.

"Everything okay?" He moved a little closer and sat on the arm of the couch, reaching out to touch her cheek with the tips of his fingers. "You sick?"

"No, I'm … I'm not sick." She moved away from him almost abruptly and his hand fell to his own lap. "Finn, we," her voice cracked a little and he could see tears swimming in her eyes, "we need to talk."

Now, it's just common knowledge that those words are never followed by anything good. Add in the tears, and yeah. Something really bad was about to happen.

"I love you," she looked up at him and he didn't think she even realized those tears were streaming down her cheeks, "_so _much. You're, you're the first boy I ever loved. The first boy who ever loved me." Finn slid off the arm of the couch and onto the cushion next to her when she hiccupped. He reached out to brush the tears off her face, but she only shook her head at him. "But, something's … _different_. In the beginning, when we first started dating, and when we first came to the city, and even right after we'd both graduated -," she stopped talking because, for a moment, she was almost choked by her tears, and though she continued to try to avoid him, he managed to slide an arm around her shoulders and pull her against him. "Even then, we worked so hard. We made time for each other, and kept crazy hours just so we could see each other around our ridiculous work schedules, and when we _were _together, we made the most of every second. But now -,"

Finn could feel Rachel's body shaking against his and he knew that he was seconds away from crying himself. She hadn't said anything yet, not really, but he wasn't stupid (no matter what people thought). And he wanted to argue, to defend himself and what they had, to tell her he was confused and had no idea where all this was coming from. But honestly, none of that was true. Everything she'd said so far was completely right. And he knew it too. He'd just spent the previous few months working so hard to convince himself otherwise.

"Now it's changed." She almost choked on a sob and sniffled a bit, and he was pretty sure she was wiping her nose on his shirt, but he really couldn't care less. "And I've known for a long time, tried to ignore it and pretend it wasn't true, but then this morning I woke up, and you weren't here, and … and it didn't even seem to matter."

And really, Finn wanted to ask what the hell she meant by that, but again, he didn't feel like he could really argue. His own thoughts about staying at work hadn't really been all that different. So he just held her a little tighter and stroked her hair instead.

"I _knew _it was your day to be home, I _knew _you should have been here with me when I woke up, but even before I got your text, I wasn't worried, or angry, or – or even sad. Because I've gotten used to it. We're like roommates now, Finn." She tilted her head up to look at him, and the redness in her eyes, the tears cutting a path down her cheeks, broke his heart. He knew where she was headed, what the end of the conversation was going to be, and as much as it killed him to know that when it was all said and done, she wasn't going to be his girlfriend anymore, what was making his chest ache and his stomach twist was the look on her face. He'd do anything – even walk away without looking back – to make that look go away. "And I do love you. Please believe me Finn," her voice took on a frantic edge and he nodded as he pointlessly wiped a few tears off her cheek. "That hasn't changed."

"But we have." His own voice was hoarse and quiet, partly because he'd been sitting there quiet for so long, listening to her, but mostly because he was trying so hard not to cry. He didn't think it would be fair to her, somehow. He watched her reach over him for the box of tissues on the end table and kept watching as she went through one after another, swiping and dabbing at the slowing stream of tears. "Do you," he cleared his throat and started once she was mostly still, staring at her own fingers twisting together in her lap, "do you want me to go? I can, um, I can call Ryan. I'm sure he'll let me stay for a while." He tried to chuckle a little, just to lighten the mood, "I mean, he owes us, after all."

Rachel shook her head, her shoulders rising and falling slowly as she took a deep, shaky breath. "No," she said when she finally looked back up at him. "No, this isn't … You didn't do anything wrong, Finn. This is about me. It's me, not you."

And he guessed he kinda got that, but really, it _was _him. It was both of them.

"I've already made arrangements. With Katy Beth." she went on. "My things are packed in the bedroom. I just, I wanted to talk to you. I – I hoped you would understand."

No. He didn't understand. Okay, technically, he got it. The things she'd said all made sense in his head. But there was another part of him, this kind of buzzing, tight feeling all over his body, that he was pretty sure would never understand.

"So, what does this …" he started finally, after several minutes of both of them just kind of sitting there. "I mean, are we … are we _done_?"

"No." She stared up at him, eyes wide and kind of searching his face, and slid her hand across his lap until it reached his own, their fingers twisting together. "I don't think so. I think we just need time. I think we've been taking each other – taking _us _– for granted. We need time apart, a chance to miss each other again. I don't -," She started crying again and Finn pretty much felt like shit. "I love you so much."

He pulled his hand from hers and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer until she ended up in his lap. He dropped his head until his lips brushed over her hair as she spoke. "Love you too, Rach. Always. And I trust you. So, so if this is what you want, we'll do it. We'll take some time apart, and when we start missing each other again, you know where to find me."

Honestly, he didn't _want _to miss her. Wasn't that the point of _being _with someone? So you didn't have to miss them? (Although, he realized that in a way, in a way he understood was probably way different from what she was talking about, but still, in a way he'd been missing her for a really long time.) But all that other stuff – about loving her and trusting her, always – he meant it. And, at least for the time being, it was what she wanted. So if it made her stop crying the way she was, he'd give her time, space, whatever she asked for. So long as it stopped the tears.


	5. Chapter 4

_**A/N: **__So if you're one of my usual readers and have stuck this out with me for this long, now you get your reward. ;) If you were actually enjoying the toothache inducing Finchel-sweetness in the beginning and were saddened by the last chapter (and, obviously, it's not like I hate them or anything, but …), I'm really sorry. Honestly, writing it (and parts of this chapter) broke my heart a little too._

~.~

**It's worth all that's lost**

Finn heard the commotion just as he gave the engine's mirror one last pass with the towel. Washing the trucks wasn't one of his favorite jobs, but at least it was a nice day, and it gave him a reason to enjoy it instead of lounging on the couch in the common room. He knew it was her as soon as he heard the first exclamation of, "Hey! Cookies!" but he had to lay his own eyes on her to really believe it was true. By the time he put the towel away and turned in the direction of the laughter and appreciative groans (her cookies really were the shit), there were so many of his co-workers surrounding her that he couldn't actually see the tiny girl herself. He could, however, see Puck, and he didn't have to see Rachel to know that it was her shoulders his arm rested on. Finn had known for a while that Puck was in town. In fact, if Puck was to be believed (and for all the things he was, Puck had never been a liar, so he had no reason not to believe him), Finn had known before he even got into town. Puck had called him one day a few months back and said that he had finally picked up the balls (and the money) to leave Lima behind for good and was on his way to New York, but then Finn hadn't heard from him again. It really didn't surprise him that Puck had made his way to Rachel before making his way to him. Those two always did have a way of finding each other.

"Do we hate him? I won't even eat the cookies if you don't want me to." Finn turned at the sound of Ryan's voice. Ryan was his best friend in the department – probably his best friend in New York, if he didn't count Rachel (though even though they had been apart for over six months, he never really stopped counting her – together or not, she would be the first person he called if he needed someone; she _had _been the first person he called when Burt had his second heart attack and she forgot that she was his ex-girlfriend and played the role of best friend to a tee).

"Nah," Finn turned and gave his friend a small, sad smile before turning back to see that the group around his still beautiful ex-girlfriend had cleared enough so that he could now see the timid glances she kept shooting his way. "We don't hate him." He watched her laugh at something his buddy Greg had just said, and the sound made his stomach flip a little. Or maybe that was from the look she shot up at Puck when he responded to Greg's joke with one of his own. It was hard to be sure. "He loves her as much as I do. Always has, I think." He shrugged, "She's happy." There was no question about that. You didn't have to be an expert in Rachel Berry (although he was, without a doubt) to see that the smile on her face and the love in her eyes were completely genuine. Her acting training had never been more irrelevant than right then.

"So then …"

Finn chuckled and rolled his eyes, "Go get your damn cookies dude."

"Thanks!" Ryan slapped the back of Finn's shoulder before jogging off to the girl who had introduced him to his own girl, the same girl who had done nearly all his cooking and laundry for him before his relationship with Hannah had taken off and then again once Hannah had broken his heart. (After which Rachel proceeded to make the girl's life a living hell, using her influence in the business not to deprive Hannah of work – she didn't want to ruin someone's livelihood – but to make sure that everyone she ever worked with knew that the girl was nothing more than a 'manipulative little harlot who couldn't appreciate a good man when he was right under her nose.') Sometimes Finn thought Ryan had taken the split harder than he had.

Finn watched as Ryan wrapped his arms around Rachel's waist and lifted her so quickly off the floor that her feet flew up behind her and Puck didn't even flinch. He just took a step back and laughed as Rachel squealed, maintaining his distance but resting his hand lightly on the small of her back once she was back safely on the ground. Finn saw Puck reach out his other hand to shake Ryan's, but he was focused on the way Rachel's eyes bore into his own. The love that he had seen before was still there, but her expression also held worry, and hope. He gave her a small, but real, smile, and the smile she sent back to him as she took a step back to nestle her body back under Puck's arm was blinding.

~.~

"How are you?" Rachel wouldn't meet his eyes, staring instead at her hands twisting endlessly in her lap. "How's Burt?"

"I'm good," Finn nodded, watching her watch her hands from where he sat in the chair just across from hers. "Burt's, he's good. Better than good, actually," he tried to laugh a little, "for someone who's had two heart attacks. 'Course mom is basically his shadow now, even more than Kurt used to be, so there's no way he's getting away with doing anything he shouldn't." He cleared his throat and ventured to look up at her face. "Have you, um, have you not talked to Kurt?"

"No," she shook her head and peeked up at him without lifting her head, "not – not in a while."

He knew what she wasn't saying (not since _us_). He also knew that she was not saying it as much for her own benefit as for his. He hated that she'd lost Kurt in the middle of everything that had happened between them, but he couldn't say that he was completely surprised. He'd never, not once, bad-mouthed Rachel to Kurt, or anyone else for that matter. But for as much as Kurt had grown, and for as much as Finn loved him as the brother he'd really come to be, he knew that sometimes he still carried a level of immaturity that was more fitted to the 15-year-old boy he'd been when they all first met than the man he'd become. He wished for Rachel's sake that wasn't the case, but at the same time, he couldn't help but think that if that was the way Kurt was going to be, she was really just better off without him. (And he only felt a tiny bit of guilt for thinking that about his own brother.)

"So, um, what about you? You're starting a new show?" He'd found out about her first show ending its run about a month after she moved out. His first thought had been that she would be calling him any time telling him that she'd had more than enough time to miss him and she was ready to move back in and fix things between them. He was going to welcome her with open arms, not wasting one second on stupid things like trying to make her earn her way back in or anything like that. But he waited days, then weeks, and eventually a little over a month until the first time he'd actually spoken to her (there had been a few 'just checking in' texts and even a voicemail or two, but no direct contact) since she left was the day he called her after finding out about Burt. She had been wonderful, and loving, and soothing, and just the sound of her voice was exactly what he needed to hear. It was also the last time he'd spoken to her until just that moment.

Rachel's head lifted for the first time since Finn had led her to a quiet corner of the common room for the two of them to talk. "Um, yes." She sounded surprised, and Finn wasn't sure whether to feel amused or a little insulted that she seemed to expect him not to know about the new show. Her name and face had already started appearing on the covers of the Broadway magazines at the stand on the corner by his apartment, but even if they hadn't, that was what the internet was for. He didn't think he was ever going to completely let go of her. "Yeah, I'm very, very excited about it. I'm originating a role. It's thrilling."

"Yeah? I bet." Finn managed a small smirk. "Have you started working on your accent yet?"

Rachel actually smiled for the first time since she'd walked away from Puck and asked Finn if they could 'go somewhere quiet to have a much-needed conversation.' "I do currently employ one more coach than I used to, yes." Finn chuckled and that only caused Rachel's small, timid smile to gain confidence and grow. "Don't laugh at me, Finn Hudson," she admonished, but she finally sat back comfortably in her chair and let her hands fall to her lap. "June Carter Cash was not only a real person but an icon to many, and Reese Witherspoon, while she performed the role on the screen and not on the stage, does leave quite the shoes to fill. She won an Oscar for her portrayal of Mrs. Cash, after all. I'm not leaving anything up to chance."

"I didn't expect any less," Finn promised. He watched her for a minute, the way her hair fell in waves around her shoulders like he remembered, the way her body had finally stopped seeming to buzz with uncontained tension, the way her face lit up when she talked to him about the only thing he ever used to think he'd have to compete with for her complete, undivided love.

"Rach," he finally started after watching her for a few more long minutes as she looked around her, undoubtedly taking in all the small changes that had been made to the room since the last time she'd been in it. (Honestly, most of the things were so small Finn hadn't even noticed them before – a new coffee pot at the corner of the counter, a different set of corny jokes on the magnets on the fridge – but while she sat there taking it all in he could see the place through her eyes and the things that he knew must have stood out for her did the same for him.) "Rachel," he said again, softly, when she didn't immediately turn to him. When she did, he knew that she knew what he was about to say. He didn't bother sugarcoating it. "Why are you here?"

Rachel pulled in a deep breath and released it slowly out of her mouth. "I wanted to talk to you. I-in person."

Finn nodded sadly. He knew what she wanted to talk about. "He called me," he told her when he could see that she was struggling to go on. "Right before he left Lima, he called and told me he was coming. I hadn't heard from him since, though."

She nodded, then finally told him, "It was a complete fluke, us meeting up," with her eyes boring into his. "We literally ran into each other outside the coffee shop a couple blocks away from Katy Beth's apartment. I spilled my tea all over his nice shirt – he was coming from a job interview," she added, almost like she needed to explain for him. "I invited him back to the apartment to clean himself up, and he looked around for about five seconds before looking me straight in the eye and asking about you."

"Yeah," Finn flinched a little. He felt bad that she got stuck with that. "I just, when I talked to him, I didn't know how …"

She didn't say anything, didn't finish his sentence or assure him that it was okay, but she nodded and smiled and closed her eyes a little and he figured that was good enough. "I explained everything, the best I could when sometimes I didn't feel like I understood it myself, and he didn't look at me like he felt bad for me, or tell me I was in the right, or the wrong for that matter, he didn't pity me or take my side or yours, just told me he was sorry it happened like it did and then moved on."

"And, eventually," he prompted. God he hoped it was eventually. He didn't need all the details. He was practically praying, in fact, that she wasn't going to give them. (He knew her well enough to know that she wouldn't do that to him.) But some part of him did want to know that she didn't just fall into his arms, or his bed (and he had to fight back the bile rising up in his throat at that thought), or let him fall into her heart, right away.

"Yes," she agreed, "eventually."

Finn nodded and they sat there like that, in silence except for the sounds of the video game being played from behind her. He looked over her shoulder and his eyes fell on the man they'd just been talking about, sitting in the overstuffed armchair which was the only piece of furniture that offered a direct view of him and Rachel. He knew that wasn't an accident, and he knew that even though Puck's eyes were on the screen at that moment, his head cocked to one side, tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration on the game that he played with Finn's best friends, he had been spending plenty of time with his eyes on _them_. There was no doubt that Puck would have been out of his chair and across the room in less than a second at the first sign that Rachel was really uncomfortable or, God forbid, unhappy. She may have been facing Finn with her back to Puck, but Finn had seen enough when they first got there (and for the past nearly 10 years, if he was really honest with himself) to know that one wrong shake of her shoulders or raised voice would have Puck rushing to her side.

"Are you happy?" he asked her when Puck laughed at what was no doubt some truly awful trash talk, since it came from Ryan. Her eyes welled up a little, but she smiled genuinely and nodded her head and he knew it was true.

"Neither of us forgot about you, Finn." Her hands began to flutter in front of her and he knew she wanted to touch him but was too scared, so he leaned forward and stretched his arm toward her, resting his elbow on his knee. She relaxed and let out a shaky breath when her hand fell into his. "You're the best friend he's ever had." He smiled at her, because he knew it was what she wanted, but inside he knew she was lying, even if she didn't realize it herself. _She _was the best friend Puck had ever had. That had been clear for a long time. "And he was scared, even if he never said so in those exact words. We both were. We didn't want to tell you over the phone, or, or worse, let you find out from someone else."

Finn wondered, why then? Why that day? But he didn't ask because he was a little scared himself of what her answer might be. (Rachel had never lived with anyone who wasn't in love with her and six months was a long time to spend in someone else's guestroom. And while the few months they must have been together might seem like only a short time to an outsider, he knew that for them it was more than enough.) He wondered a lot of other things too, like what exactly Puck _did _in the city and if their schedules worked out any better than his and hers had. He kind of thought, though, that Puck's schedule, that his whole life, actually, was probably a lot more similar to Rachel's than his had ever been. And even if it wasn't, he was nearly sure that Puck wouldn't let them make the same kinds of mistakes that had been made between himself and Rachel. After all, he'd spent the last six months realizing what a mistake he'd made (not that she was free of blame either, but he could only worry about the things he could control) by taking her, and them, for granted. As far as he could tell, that was probably how Puck had spent the last nine or 10 years, so he knew better than to make those same mistakes.

"We didn't want to hurt you. Any more than necessary," she added, because let's be clear about one thing, the whole thing already hurt pretty damn bad.

"Does he make you smile?" The soft little smile on her face right then and the way she looked down at their hands answered his question before she did.

"Every day."

Finn nodded. Good. "Then I'm happy for you," he lied. "But," he cleared his throat so she would look back up at him, "if that ever changes …" He could tell by the look on her face that she was pretty sure it wouldn't, but he appreciated that she nodded anyway.

~.~

He wasn't trying to get rid of her or rush them off, because even as much as it hurt to look at her there, nestled into Puck's side and looking as comfortable as he'd ever seen her, it just felt right having her around, too. But it was getting to be dinner time, and even though no one would have said anything about him skipping out on helping to talk to Rachel for however long he'd needed to, he didn't want to do that. It had been becoming clear over the past few months, and suddenly it was like crystal, that he needed to start getting used to the idea of a life without Rachel at the center of it. At that moment, that meant walking her and her new boyfriend (his old best friend) to the door so he could help his co-workers, his family, make dinner.

"It was really good to see you," he had been looking directly at Rachel for the most part as he walked them out, but he turned to look Puck in the eye, "both of you." Puck didn't say anything but he reached out with the hand that wasn't resting on Rachel's hip, his hand balled into a fist, and Finn hit first the top then the bottom of it with his own fist.

Rachel looked up at Puck, her eyes wide and soft, and Finn thought he saw Puck nod just the tiniest bit before he took a few steps back to leave the two of them standing there.

"I'll always love you, you know," Rachel whispered once she'd pushed herself onto her toes and he'd bent to meet her, his arms falling loosely around her waist and hers draping over his shoulders.

"I know," he promised. "Me too." He felt her ball the fabric of his t-shirt in one of her hands for just a second before she pushed away from him and fell back to her heels.

She was smiling as she looked up at him, then she turned for a second to look back at where Puck was watching them closely but without jealousy or bitterness, as far as Finn could tell, and when she turned back she was smiling just a tiny bit bigger. "But I … he …"

"I know." He lifted his hand to brush away the tear that slipped out of her eye even as she continued to smile. "Be happy, Rachel." She nodded and reached up to squeeze his wrist before turning back to Puck and walking out of the station with him, his arm securely back around her waist and her head on his shoulder while his own dipped to talk lowly in her ear as they walked. Even then, Finn couldn't miss the smile on her face.


	6. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

**Just to see you smile**

He probably should have felt way more awkward going into this thing than he did. 'Cause he'd basically just busted into his (ex?) best friend's home territory with the girl that everyone (including himself) had always considered to be _his _tucked under his arm. There were a lot of ways this could have gone down that didn't end with Puck sitting on the couch playing Mario Kart with Finn's, well, brothers, if what he had always seen on tv and movies and heard and believed about firemen was true. But that's what he'd done, for over an hour, while always keeping one eye on the corner where Finn and Rachel sat talking – about him, probably. And he wasn't jealous or worried, not even a little bit. Well, okay, yeah, he'd been a little worried, but not like that. He knows Finn's a good guy, and he knows he still loves Rachel, and that he probably wouldn't say or do anything to hurt her, but still. That's not really a chance he was gonna take. After all, he's only just gotten her, he isn't about to let her down by letting her ex-boyfriend like, stomp all over her heart or something.

"Ya okay, girly?" he bends to ask, quietly and right in her ear, as they walk out of the truck bay of Finn's station. She doesn't actually answer, but she looks up at him and smiles, and _God _he loves that smile. "It was good, right? I mean, it looked good." Alright, so maybe he's a little worried about Finn too. Dude is his bro, even if they don't really talk any more. And then, even though he's not actually jealous, he can't just forget that Rachel'd spent the last 10 years being pretty much completely in love with the guy. He's secure, sure, but shit, he ain't stupid. There was always that possibility that –

Whatever. She walked out with him. She's smiling at _him_. And he knows she still loves Finn, in a way (in a lot of ways, probably), and that she probably always will. But he's okay with that, as long as she keeps looking at him the way she is, and looking at Finn that other way she was, and holding onto him even when Finn's right there, not because she's desperate or because she needs him or needs to prove something but just because she wants to. Because sometimes you just outgrow things (he would know) and you realize that even though it seemed great for a while – maybe it actually even was, most of the time – it just isn't _right _anymore. So she might still love Finn, but _Rachel&Finn_? That's over. He can see it. He can _feel_ it.

"It wasn't bad." She finally tells him, watching her fingers play with the collar of his shirt under the pretense of straightening it. "He'll be okay."

"And we _are_ okay?"

Her hand slides up over his neck until her palm cradles his jaw and her middle finger traces the shell of his ear. Her eyes follow the movement before landing on his lips and he watches her face as she pushes herself up to kiss him softly, smiling against him when his arm tightens around her waist. "We're wonderful."

He holds her body against his for an extra second just so he can lean in for one more quick kiss, because, well, yeah. She's blushing a little when she pulls back, trailing her hand down his front until it rests just over his belly button as they walk.

He'd had no idea when he showed up in New York that Finn and Rachel were on a break or whatever they were (because she admitted herself that she hadn't thought it would be permanent when she initiated it). And honestly, when he was standing in the middle of some other chick's living room listening to Rachel explain it all, he kinda wanted to kick Finn's ass for not giving him a heads up or something. He hadn't tried anything with her at first because he could tell she wasn't ready for that. Actually, he never did really 'try anything.' They were friends, kinda like they'd been in high school, only it was way better 'cause they were both adults and way more comfortable in their own skins than they'd ever been back then so there were no secrets or agendas or anything like that. It was just, well, _natural_, like he'd tried to convince her way back then it would be. And over time – he could see it on her face and hear it in her voice – she stopped thinking of Finn as her boyfriend-in-waiting.

It was when she got Finn's voicemail saying he really needed to talk to her about Burt and she called him back without hesitating for a second or looking like it caused her any pain to do so that he realized she wasn't in love with Finn anymore. (And yeah, he'd been there, on her friend's couch as she paced, for that conversation, and he felt like complete shit about that, but it was definitely not the time to bring up the fact that he was there and they'd been hanging out – a lot.) They talked for nearly two hours, and she cried with him and whispered sweet, soothing words to him through the phone and made promises she couldn't keep about Burt being fine and other ones she would've kept about being there for him any time he needed her, but when she hung up the phone she sat down and draped her legs over his lap and told him she was heartbroken for 'that family' and said nothing about needing to be _the one_ to comfort Finn or make everything better for him. A little over a week later, they were eating Chinese take-out in his living room, him sprawled across the couch while she sat on the floor with her knees pulled up in front of her like a little table, and she had her head thrown back laughing at something he'd said while he just watched her, goofy-ass grin takin' up, like, half his face. Once she'd stopped laughing and used her napkin to clean up the pieces of rice that had flown out of her mouth (and he was damn proud of that, thank you very much), she just looked up at him and said, "This is _something_, isn't it?" He was maybe smiling even bigger when he told her 'yeah' and she crawled up onto the couch and stole a piece of broccoli off his plate before resting her head on his thigh and turning her attention back to the movie they'd been watching.

"Hey," she smacks his stomach a little and he realizes they've stopped walking and are waiting at a crosswalk for the light to turn. "Where'd you go?"

He chuckles before shrugging and answering, "My happy place."

"I thought I was your happy place," she rests her chin on his shoulder and pouts up at him, bottom lip stuck out and eyes unnaturally wide.

He actually growls a little before smirking and sliding his hand off her hip to squeeze her ass for just, like, half a second. "Babe, you have no idea. Hey," he nudges her with his hip before they take off walking again, "so that gig for tonight didn't work out." Or he just never actually called the dude back, whatever. He kinda has priorities, here. "Wanna have a sleepover?"

"Mmm," she sort of purrs into his shoulder. "I'd love to. Let's just stop by Katy Beth's for me to get a few things."

He nods. He doesn't point out that she already has more than a few things at his place. She doesn't need to know that he's been kinda sorta maybe, like, stealing her stuff every time she stays over. He's really hoping that by the time she figures it out, there'll be more of her stuff there than at the old place and she'll realize how much easier it'd be to just move the rest of her stuff in than to move out all the stuff he's been 'storing' for her. So it's only been a few months so far, the way he figures it, it'll be a few more before she catches onto his genius plan, and that's _more _than enough time for them. (Like way more. He wouldn't even mind speeding the process up a little bit.)

"Bring as much as you want," he tells her, his lips moving over the top of her head, where he kisses her afterward. She just turns her face up toward him and smiles, big and bright and _awesome_, and that smile? _That _is his happy place.

~.~

'_**Just to See You Smile' – Tim McGraw**_

_You always had an eye for things that glittered  
But I was far from being made of gold  
I don't know how but I scraped up the money  
I just never could quite tell you no_

Just like when you were leaving Amarillo  
Takin' that new job in Tennessee  
And I quit mine so we could be together  
I can't forget the way you looked at me

Just to see you smile  
I'd do anything that you wanted me to  
When all is said and done  
I'd never count the cost  
It's worth all that's lost  
Just to see you smile

When you said time was all you really needed  
I walked away and let you have your space  
Cause leavin' didn't hurt me near as badly  
As the tears I saw rollin' down your face

And yesterday I knew just what you wanted  
When you came walkin' up to me with him  
So I told you that I was happy for you  
And given the chance I'd lie again

Just to see you smile  
I'd do anything that you wanted me to  
When all is said and done  
I'd never count the cost  
It's worth all that's lost  
Just to see you smile

Just to see you smile  
I'd do anything that you wanted me to  
When all is said and done  
I'd never count the cost  
It's worth all that's lost  
Just to see you smile


End file.
